


build me up buttercup

by harrowed (syscheckAIDAN)



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Dubious Understanding of Destiny Plot, F/M, Friends to Better Friends to Lovers, Reader Has A Name, Reader Is an OC There I Said It, Slice of Life, Tentative Title, and personality and backstory and yeah its just an OC w a second person POV slapped on, anyway!, hello i am NEW to destiny and i am ONLY here for robot mal reynolds, ive been playing this game for one day, oh! reader is also hispanicish bc if saint 14 can have a russian accent.... u feel, probably if i get there, she can and she will be is what i say, so you can imagine why im here writing this, sobs i love him sm i miss him sm i never even got to see him i hate being late to parties WHY BUNGIE
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25726168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syscheckAIDAN/pseuds/harrowed
Summary: Fragmented anecdotes of the working relationship between Hunter Vanguard Cayde-6 and a non-Vanguard Hunter who isn't Cayde-6.
Relationships: Cayde-6 (Destiny)/Reader, Cayde-6/Female Guardian (Destiny)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	build me up buttercup

**Author's Note:**

> I'M JUMPING IN AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME.
> 
> jk here are some notes:  
> \- DONT ASK ABT GAME PLOT NOT YET I JUST STARTED  
> \- the MC's name/alias/callsign is Magdalena/"Dalena"! hats off if u know why that's one of the most on-the-nose, uncreative names i could have used, bc i thought it was funny. also magdalena is such a pretty name  
> \- gotta shout-out to ur heritage sometimes, so MC is gonna b hispanic bc i think that kind of ingrained stuff would stick with you, no?  
> \- i'm getting a feel for cayde so hopefully i'll have him down pat soon!  
> \- ive never heard of forsaken.
> 
> also i'll be playing w/ POV from time to time by which i mean this time, it's omniscient narrative style but by the next chapter i'll have forgotten that
> 
> ONWARD

You meet the Hunter Vanguard personally at a bar, on a night where you decide that this time, you might try something new for once. And it is new ground for you - for the most part, you're more for drinking coffee than alcohol - but you're not what people would call shy, and you lean against the counter with a drink in your hand and your fingers tapping against the glass along with the beat of the bassline.

There’s a multitude of Guardians here, most of whom are talking, dancing and drinking like it really is the end of the world despite the fact that they exist to prevent it. The revelry is loud and exuberant, but it’s that delicately balanced sort that is about one sour word away from an all-encompassing bar fight. A normal Tuesday, you assume.

It’s not what you came here for, you think, surveying the crowd, but if it came to it, maybe you wouldn’t leave with unbruised knuckles…

It’s while you nurse a glass of something-or-other that the exo comes up to you, and you’re experienced enough to recognize the blue eyes and horn right off the bat. It has you suppressing a soft laugh, how others are either too drunk to notice, or turn and stare as he passes. Whether he used this chance to go through and get a look at the Guardians or just get some good old-fashioned booze for himself, you aren’t sure. The way people talk about him, it could be either one. _Duty-shirker. Capable leader. Good man._ _Thinks he’s hot stuff._ You’ve heard it all.

Maybe he's counting on you recognizing him when he has a seat beside you; you're not sure. Either way, you give him a customary warm smile, like he’s an old friend.

"Looking for some company, Guardian?” Cayde-6 says, in a tone that suggests he’s already decided you are. “I happen to make fantastic company."

If you were just a little more prone to self-consciousness, you’d be tripping all over yourself. But as it is, you’re _you_ , and you’re not the type to drink alcohol alone, and since waking up you’ve decided that holding back on saying what you think and giving what you have is passé anyway. So you fold your arms on the countertop and give him your full attention.

"I wouldn't object. I'm working through one of these blue things right now, do you want one? I'd be happy to foot the bill."

It’s said casually, the offer born of some innate habit that’s dwelled within you upon your reawakening. You aren’t sure whether it’s something cultural, or a personal tic you’d learned and memorized beforehand; most days, you think it’s the former. You may not remember your original life and self, but there are echoes in the way you hold yourself, the way you slip into accented words and occasional Spanish, the way you absolutely _must_ provide food and drink to people in your company. Your Ghost seems to think you’re just a softie.

At the offer of a free drink, the Hunter Vanguard’s head tilts, eyes startled; then he recovers, cheeks flashing gold with his laugh.

" _You’ve done it again, Cayde, you handsome_ _devil_ ,” he mutters to himself, and louder, to you, he says, “Ah, I mean, what a generous offer! You’re one of the good ones, I can tell already. Thanks, Guardian." A wink from him; a soft snort from you.

You wave the bartender frame over, calling for “another one of these, thank you,” in lieu of actually naming the drink, because you have no idea what it’s called. Your most winning smile has no real effect on the frame, but that’s alright.

"So, you're one of mine," Cayde says as the barkeep prepares the drink, gesturing to the characteristic hood you'd forgotten to take off. "Interesting, interesting." The way his tone dips into the slightly raised and a little too casual tells you that he’s just always on the lookout for Hunters, whether he’s conscious of it or not.

You raise your eyebrows and try to look at least slightly shocked, wondering if that’s the reaction he’d been looking for with his subtle ‘reveal.’ Something like, _holy Light, that’s_ the _Cayde-6! Thunderstruck realization! Stunned silence!_ It’s a feeble attempt at best, though, and you shake your head and smile, dropping it.

“That I am, sir. _Mucho gusto._ It’s always good to know who you’re taking orders from. And now I know.” Another sip from your glass; a measured assessment of the Hunter Vanguard.

Cayde watches your eyes flick up and down his body; he could drop an innuendo, maybe a sly accusation, something about superior officers and inappropriately wandering gazes, but there’s no real embarrassment or slack-jawed attraction to your expression. Innuendo isn’t nearly as fun when the other party is clearly not going to be mortified by it. Well, he’d figure out your reaction-trigger quick, sure enough.

“And?” he says cheekily instead, resting his chin in his palm. His other hand wraps around the drink that’s appeared on the counter before him, some sky-blue number that matches your own. “Does that come with a full review, first impressions and everything? How many stars out of five, ’cause it’d better be six.”

You, for your part, have to bring a hand up to your mouth to stifle your smile before it stretches off your face. Everyone said that Cayde-6 had a larger than life personality, but no one told you he was this much of a _goofball._

“Well, I can tell you that it’s not zero, chief _,”_ you tell him impishly, taking another pull of your drink. The slight citrus against your tongue is satisfying – not as much as a cup of coffee, though, and _certainly_ not as much as the way the exo’s face goes from indulgent to surprised to mildly offended, despite not having nearly as much freedom of expression as you.

“Wh – details, I need details, Hunter, you’re really making me nervous here. Can’t you tell? I’m sweating _bullets._ ” He pauses, seeming to realize how he sounds.

“I’m not insecure,” he adds seriously, leveling a finger at you for a second to drive the point home.

“Got you. You exude confidence, don’t worry.”

“Yes! Yeah, that’s right. Good answer.” Another pause, for about two seconds, before he can’t hold in his curiosity anymore. “Seriously, though, about the first impression.”

He watches your face grow thoughtful as you take another sip and brush your hair back to avoid getting it in your mouth. You’re content to let your feelings show on your face – whether it’s a deliberate allowance or just the product of being a fresh-faced baby, well, time will tell. Cayde can’t help but like that you seem even-keeled and at ease, both in the presence of company and when you were alone at the bar earlier. That subtle assurance and calm is a good trait for a Hunter to have, and far as he can tell, you’ve got it in spades.

_There’s a card joke to be made there somewhere_ , he thinks. You must have finished mulling it over, because you meet his eyes again.

“I think you made a good first impression.” End of sentence.

“…Huh. Well, not that I don’t appreciate that, ’s just I was expecting a little more… poetry there. If I’m being honest.”

“I wasn’t done, but I’ll keep that in mind,” you laugh. “Here. I like that you’re comfortable approaching your people. And I like that you’re kind of a motormouth. You didn’t argue when I wanted to buy you a drink – I mean, it is nice and all, but I get tired of people insisting that it’s not necessary. You carry yourself like you believe in yourself, and even if you don’t, I wouldn’t call your bluff.” You hum, tapping your cheek thoughtfully. “And you look nice. I like that when you speak, you light up yellow, and I like the color of your eyes. That’s going from inside to outside, and it’s just the starting list. Six out of five stars. Is that poetic enough?”

In hindsight, Cayde will think later, this is the moment where he decided he wanted you to stick around. And maybe in this moment, at least at first, it’s because yes, he’s _flattered_ , and he likes the boost to his ego, and maybe he’s just a little-sort of-tiny bit charmed. You and your complete, gentle honesty have knocked the wind out of his sails just a smidge. Not that he’ll say so.

“Wow,” he says finally, unsticking the words from where they seem to have halted temporarily in his throat. “That’s, uh, pretty much a thesis you’ve come up with there, champ. Unexpectedly detailed. If you were looking for some brownie points, good job.”

“Not looking,” you reply with a little grin. “I will take them though, _gracias._ I do like brownies.” You finish off your drink and set it down along with enough glimmer to cover both your glasses and then a few, and then you pull yourself into a languid little stretch. “Thank you for the chat, Cayde-6. I enjoyed it.”

“Tapping out already?” Cayde sits up straight, not having expected that. He’s pretty sure that was the only drink you had, too, which was… “The night’s just barely getting started. I’m almost disappointed, Hunter. Not that responsibility is a bad _thing,_ per se--”

Your laugh is a touch rueful, but you stand anyway.

“I don’t come to these places very often, so I’m not really _in touch_ with the night life,” you explain with a shrug. “Besides, I’m due somewhere else in fifteen-or-so minutes, and I need the head start. You can have another glass for me, if you want.” And you nod, to the glimmer on the bar top.

“Whoa! Wait-wait-wait, one more thing, Hunter,” he exclaims as you turn to leave. “Didn’t catch your name there. Embarrassing, right?”

“I mean, I forgot to give it,” you say. “But I can fix that. It’s –”

“Dalena!” another voice calls out in passing, more perfectly timed than anything, and you turn to the speaker and wave. A member of your fireteam, still new to this brave new world, but familiar with you.

“Fen!” you call back, eyes crinkling endearingly, before returning your attention to the exo beside you. You shrug, as if to say, _there it is,_ and he nods sagely.

“Dalena, huh?” Cayde asks, stroking his chin. Look at him, being all observant the way he does best. He catalogues the name. For sure his memory will capture the figure you cut, all height and amused eyes and dyed purple hair. “I’ll remember that.”

And you smile.


End file.
